Marshal's Baton
by Hawkwitch
Summary: Post-canon, sequel to "Strategic Hell". This time, somehow, Clouds of Good Fortune are really starting to gather over Bernard's head.


Mrs. Catherine Woolley opened a window, letting bright sunlight and fresh air into the office. She was beaming with pride.

„It all looks so... old! The curtains must be changed... the furniture too... walls have to be painted!" Catherine said.

„YES! New job, new car, new watch, new suit, what else? My new office must be fully refurbished!" Bernard spoke in agitation that noone except for his wife ever saw. Ever. „I want the very best decorator! MY office has to look fresh and modern!... but why just stop there? There must be only sweet sherry!"

„Oh looking so confident suits you!" Catherine said teasingly. „But don't forget the reception in the evening. Or you must spend the night here."

„Of course I won't forget this, darling." Bernard said.

„Actually I think Georgie is a bit jealous of you." Catherine said.

„Of course he is." Bernard said.

„The whole town is talking about you." Catherine said, excitedly. She wasn't exactly displeased, in fact.

„Of course they are. But what can I do? Nothing succeeds like success."

 _So I actually got this job! Permanent Secretary of DAA! After so many years of humiliation, boot-licking and being treated like an infant, all turned out spectacularly easily. I did not have to prove my worthiness to Appleby again. I did nothing. I simply showed up. There were no competitors. I was the only one who expressed interest. Noone else wanted to touch this radioactive waste that is DAA. Not even some clown such as Dr. Cartwright. The competition was dragging on and on. Then I had some doubts. It looked just as pathetic as chasing some lady with whom noone wants to sleep with. I withdrew my application, saying I do not really care. Then I was practically forced to take the job. I am not exactly known for turning down difficult jobs. Come to think of it, I'm not exactly known for turning down promotions either. I left No 10 without a second thought, knowing I can finally be myself._

„Do I have to call you Sir Bernard now?" Asked Lloyd Prichard, Bernard's major co-conspirator.

„If you insist." Bernard said mockingly. „But do tell me: what's the Minister like? I have seen him in No 10 of course, but the only thing I can tell is that he is a very average driver with a very average car. And his watch is very average and so is his style. I do not recall Hacker making any comments about him, either positive or negative. Even the MI-5 file suggests he is a bore." Bernard said.

„Well, he is a bore. I tried to give him some dandy tips on vehicles, watches and fashion but he just started complaining it's too expensive. He does not drink or do strippers or anything else that is interesting. He probably sleeps with his wife. And believe me, his wife is nothing like Annie Hacker, his wife is NOT exactly a dish."

„ _Asini exiguo pabulo vivunt_..." Bernard said.

Lloyd snickered and said: „Oh by the way! He understands some basic latin and greek. But he is concealing this, because he is trying really desperately to please Hacker. I only discovered this by an accident. " _Errare humanum est, stultum est in errore perseverare_..." is what I said, for my own amusement. He was staring at me and blushing, I could tell he was hurt. Then I started feeling really bad because actually he is quite nice."

 _The Minister's office looked practically the same as two years ago. My experiences with Ministers are limited to The Prime Minister James Hacker, who is full of ill-directed energy and endless controversial ideas. And former Minister of Administrative Affairs, Tom Sargent who has way too much attitude and too little tact. My very first own Minister is called John Smith and in comparison, he is a bit dull indeed. I was expecting some battle, as it is the only thing I have seen and experienced so far. But there has to be more to life than this, right? None of this happened. I just walked in! The Minister was very compliant with me and appeared to want to be in my good graces. How very strange. Somehow, Clouds of Good Fortune are really starting to gather over my head._

Notes: Asini exiguo pabulo vivunt = donkeys are satisfied with modest food  
Errare humanum est, stultum est in errore perseverare = erring is human but it's stupid to stay in error


End file.
